


With One Step

by Naddy



Category: Inception (2010), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Meet as Teenagers, Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon AU, Pokemon Journey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-16 17:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3496958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naddy/pseuds/Naddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames had no idea that his new neighbor Arthur would become his best friend and companion on a journey like no other. Arthur had no idea he was going on a journey, period.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a sunny late summer day in Rustboro. Eames was watching the world outside his bedroom window, particularly across the street where a moving truck was parked and large, muscular pokémon were moving pieces of furniture and cardboard boxes. Normally, Eames wasn’t such an early riser. He was seventeen and felt he had a right to stay out late and sleep in even later. This morning was different. Instead of getting a nice restful morning of sleep, Eames was gifted with the annoyance of a rumbling truck, and the hard-working grunts of pokémon. Unable to fall back asleep, Eames settled for watching the activity swarming around the no-longer-empty house across the street.

For the most part, the pokémon seemed to be hefting typical things back and forth. Occasionally, they carried strange scientific-looking machines and devices out of the truck and into the house. Eames rested his forehead against the glass, curious about what use those machines had. 

“Now what do you suppose those are for, Rivet?” He asked quietly, looking down to his right. The aron in question, quietly nibbling on a hunk of hematite, looked up from his basket and at Eames, before trilling agreeably and going back to his breakfast.

“Mm. Quite. Some nefarious purpose I’m sure. Perhaps its for experimenting on little arons who like to hide rocks in shoes,” Eames teased and rubbed the pokémon’s small metallic head. “Let’s go meet the new neighbors?”

He quickly changed out of his pyjamas into some jeans and a t-shirt. After a moment of consideration, he tossed a light grey jacket on too. Eames grabbed his sneakers and tipped them over, dropping the tiny stones hidden in them into Rivet’s rock pile, then slipped them on, headed for the stairs.

“Are you coming?”

Rivet hesitated, no doubt worried about crazy experiments, but then jumped up and out of his basket with an encouraging noise, and followed Eames’ heavy footsteps. There were loud thumps as he dropped his heavy but tiny body from stair to stair. They almost made it through the door before Eames heard a voice behind him.

“Not so fast, young man. Where are we rushing off to so quickly now? You’re usually not awake this early. Never for anything good at least,” his mother said, eyeing him.

“There’s new neighbors. I wanna meet them.” Eames tried to sound innocent, but he couldn’t tell how effective his voice was.

“I saw that. Alright, go say hi and introduce yourself, oh, and bring these brownies. Your father already left for work, so we haven’t had a proper chance to meet them ourselves yet. Do be polite, will you?”

Eames nodded through his mother’s chatter and took the plate of brownies. “Yes, mum. Of course. When am I not polite?” He asked, placing a hand on his chest and pretending to be wounded. “You know I am a perfect gentleman in everything I say or do.”

“I’ll dig out the detention slips again then, shall I?” His mother said, rolling her eyes. “Get going then.”

Eames grinned and darted out the door and across the street, Rivet still close on his heels. The moving truck had finally left, taking the worker’s pokémon with it. Now, the soft morning sounds were the only thing to be heard on the street. Eames knocked and stood on the doorstep patiently, until a woman with dark hair and soft, expressive eyes opened the door.

“Oh. Hello,” she smiled, “It’s good to see a welcoming party so soon.”

“My mom made brownies.” Eames dutifully held the plate out, while trying to crane his neck around discreetly to see the science devices behind the woman. “I’m Eames, from across the street. The red house.” The lady took the plate and waved Eames inside into the box-filled kitchen. He followed her, doing his best to be polite while absorbing as much information as he could. Rivet clumsily stepped over the house’s threshold and sniffed at a few boxes.

Naturally, they hadn’t had the time to unpack yet, but now that Eames was close to the boxes, he could see what was inside a few of them, and read the labels on the sides. Some said the usual. Kitchen. Living Room. Bathroom. Others seemed more interesting. Records from last year. Raw Data from this year. Summer Samples.

“We’re the Lesage family. We’ve just come from Kalos,” she explained. “I’m Patricia. My husband Richard is around here somewhere… And of course Arthur. I think he ran off already.”

Eames quickly latched on to that last piece of information. 

“Is Arthur your son?”

“Yes. He’s seventeen now, and runs off whenever he gets the chance. I’m not sure if he does it because he likes the adventure or likes being alone,” the mother mused then looked at Eames. “Do you think you could find him and bring him back here? The movers finished bringing his boxes up to his room, and I’m sure he’s eager to unpack,” she said, beginning to cut open the kitchen boxes. “I’m sure he didn’t go too far, but I’m not at all familiar with this town and wouldn’t know where to look.”

“There’s not much to do around here.” Eames nodded. “I’ll find him and have him back in a jiffy.”

“Thank you so much. When you boys get back, we’ll try these brownies.”

“Yes ma’am.” Eames nodded politely, then picked up Rivet and meandered back outside. If he was a new kid in a strange town where would he go? First, he’d probably look up and down the street. The west end of the street terminated in a dead end but the east end led out into the main hub of town. Eames paused and looked around, trying to imagine what the next step was. There was a pokémon center, a cafe, and not much else that looked interesting from here. Eames doubted that this Arthur needed a pokémon center soon, and he wasn’t sure the cafe was even open yet. That didn’t leave many other options… except the road leading out of town.

“Think he’s that brave, love?” Eames glanced down. Rivet had no response and was starting to chew on Eames’ jacket’s metal zipper. “Oi. Cut that out. You keep eating the zippers off all my clothes and I’m going to start wearing things with plastic buttons.” He flicked Rivet’s metal-plated nose, succeeding in stopping the aron from destroying his jacket, but making his finger sting sharply. “Fuck. Alright. Let’s go find this kid, then I’ll bring you home. Give you more rocks to chew on.” Apparently Rivet was placated by this, because he stopped trying to destroy Eames’ favorite jacket. 

Eames followed the road out of town towards the lake, into the tall grassy meadows and dense trees. He spotted the usuals. Fisherman were scattered along the shoreline, hopefully working their rods. Schoolgirls were running up and down the shoreline, picking flowers and playing with their pokémon. He could see some gardeners working in front of the flower shop.

There was one who didn’t fit in. A boy sat on the bridge spanning the lake, holding a dustbunny crossed with a teddy bear, and dangling his legs over the edge. He was holding tightly to his pokémon, and watched the water with a focused expression. His clothes were nice and his face appeared to have the same expressive eyes and dark hair Eames had seen earlier on his mother.

“Oi!” Eames called out and started waving a free hand, balancing Rivet's heavy body with the other. “Are you Arthur?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur watched the reflections in the water until Eames came.

This wasn’t the first time Arthur’s family had moved. His parents were scientists interested in studying the weather, and they were extremely devoted to their research. They lived in Johto when he was just a baby, the Sevii Islands when he was a child, and then Kalos from his pre-teen years until now. Truthfully, Arthur wasn’t surprised when his parents told him about this particular move. He had seen the news, seen that an incident involving legendary pokémon had changed the weather. Now here they were, in Hoenn, in a completely alien place in a completely unfamiliar town.

But this time, he had a companion for the move. When he was thirteen and living in Kalos, his parents, concerned with his quiet and solitary nature, had given him an espurr, Matilda, sometimes known as Tillie. Arthur remembered their meeting fondly as he hefted a box of her toys and things up to his new room.

His new room was upstairs as well, and was very sparsely furnished so far. The bed had a plain navy spread and Arthur had yet to unpack his clothes into his dresser or put his books and things on the shelves on the wall. He put Tillie’s bed down first where it could get sunlight and made sure she was comfortable before he started unloading the rest of his cardboard boxes. 

Feeling messy in his travel clothes, Arthur changed into a new button-up and a pair of jeans, then neatly folded and put the rest of his clothes away in his dresser. Tillie watched him carefully from her basket, apparently taking the time to absorb the environment change as well. The change of clothes helped him to feel more human, and less like one of the boxes stacked around the house. He sat on his bed for a moment, looking out the window where he could see strong pokémon moving things around, and drummed his fingers on his knee.

Arthur still felt restless a few moments later, even after moving his book collection to his shelf and hanging up his favorite maps and posters. After sitting on a ship, then in a moving truck for so long, his legs were aching for action and his mind was hungry to see his new home. Any stimulus would be welcomed at this point.

He slipped his shoes on and Tillie padded over from her basket and tugged on his pant leg.

“You sure? You can sleep if you’d prefer,” he offered. Arthur was pretty sure neither of them had gotten proper sleep on the ship. Tillie just tugged insistently again. “Alright, yes, yes.” He scooped her up and held her comfortably against his chest. She snuggled in a bit closer and started purring quite contently. Arthur patted her head fondly and smoothly descended the stairs from his new room. 

“Mom, I’m going to go explore for a bit. See what the town’s like.”

“Don’t get lost and be careful, dear,” his mother fretted, looking up from a stack of rainfall records.

“I’m seventeen. I think I can handle being outside in a new city.”

“I know, but you can’t blame a mother for worrying.” 

Arthur kissed her cheek. “I know, mom. Just wanna see our new home.”

“Come back soon. There’s plenty left to unpack and I could use a hand getting things sorted.”

“Got it.” He pecked her other cheek and sidestepped through the maze of moving boxes to get out the front door.

Outside, he strolled down the street. It was a little early for much activity yet. He paused, looking at the cafe, then kept walking. The town seemed nice. It was clean, well paved with bricks, and friendly-looking on all fronts so far. Some houses had trees or flower patches to break up the constant pavement. There were streetlamps here or there on the corners. Actually, it seemed like a pretty nice place to have earned the name “Rustboro.”

Arthur kept going, following the street until he was out of the city. He passed a school and several houses on his way out, but nothing held his attention for more than a few moments. There was a small lake just outside the town, ringed by trees and flowers and people with their pokémon. A dock-bridge structure bisected the lake. Keeping Matilda close, Arthur waded through the flowers and explored further, stopping on the middle of the dock-bridge. He toed his shoes off and moved into a sitting position, dipping his toes and feet in the water.

Tillie wiggled out of his arms and leaned over the edge of the dock to swat at the water. Satisfied that water worked the same way in Hoenn as it did in Kalos, she climbed back into his lap and began to groom the wet paws.

“Glad you approve,” he murmured. They spent a few minutes like this, enjoying the reflections of clouds slowly drifting across the still, glassy water. Arther thought about sitting on the banks of the river at home. Perhaps some things were universal. He watched the reflections in the water, running his fingers through the downy fuzz on Tillie’s head. It was almost meditative, sitting here and enjoying the sunshine.

The calm was broken a few minutes later by a loud, smooth, accented voice.

“Oi! Are you Arthur?” A kid on shore was waving at him and approaching across the dock-bridge. He looked like a local; his was wearing a t-shirt with the town’s gym logo on it, and for some reason he just matched. He looked comfortable in this environment and seemed to fit it somehow. Arthur identified the pokémon he was carrying as an aron, something typically rare in the Kalos region. He had messy blond-brown hair and an infectious smile with crooked teeth. Despite his reservations with strangers, Arthur found himself offering a tiny smile, no more than slight twitches at the end of his lips, in turn. Arthur got to his feet quickly, so by the time the other kid met him on the bridge, he was already standing.

“That’s me,” he nodded. “Did my mom send you?”

“Yeah. I live across the street from you, and my mom had me bring some brownies over. Your mom said I should go get you if we’re going to eat them. Oh, right. My name’s Eames.”

“Eames.” Arthur repeated. “I’d introduce myself, but you already have my name.” He rubbed Tillie’s head. “This is Matilda. You can also call her Tillie.”

“And what a very fine lady Tillie is. This little rascal is Rivet. He’s going through another growth spurt, so he’ll eat any rock or bit of metal you dangle in front of him. Won’t you, you giant stomach on legs?” The aron squeaked, apparently insulted.

They started walking back to town together, each carrying their respective companion. Arthur could tell Eames was trying to be polite, but still caught him taking long glances at Tillie and himself. Privately, he enjoyed the air of mystery and intrigue he must have been radiating for a moment before he decided to take pity on Eames and give him an explanation.

“She’s an espurr. From Kalos. That’s where we lived before. We have aron,” he looked at Rivet, “but they’re rarely found, from what I understand.”

“An espurr. Right. Is she alright? She looks a little…”

“That’s how espurr are,” Arthur answered quickly, kissing the top of Tillie’s head. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or her, I was just worried-” Eames sheepishly looked down at the path, trying to find a polite word.

Arthur waved him to stop. “It’s fine. People in Kalos are used to it because they see them so often, but you’re right. She looks a little concerning. Never fear though. She’s as playful as any other pokémon.”

“Good to hear. So, Kalos was it? What’s that like?”

“Warm. Lots of flowers. Even more than down by the lake. We’ve got a lot of pokémon that live in flower fields instead of grass fields. People are mostly nice. Sometimes people get a little too caught up in fashion or breeding or class, but for the most part, I’d say the people are good. Lots of artists of all kinds.”

“That sounds amazing. Rustboro is full of miners and miner’s kids and wives.” Eames beamed. “That’s me. My dad’s a miner. That’s where he got Rivet. He was working a vein one day, and he reaches for one of his tools, and what does he find instead? A wild aron, totally uncaring about him, totally unafraid, chewing half the handle off something important. Something that cool and unflappable was perfect for me, he thought, so he fed the aron some metal rivets instead of tools, and brought him home for me when I was ten or eleven. Feels like we’ve been together forever though.” 

“That’s a pretty great story.” Arthur found himself grinning wider with Eames. “My mom caught Tillie for me. I guess I was pretty quiet and mostly kept to myself growing up, so when I turned thirteen, she thought I was ready and kicked through the grass until she found a pokémon she thought matched me.” He rubbed Tillie’s head again, digging a finger into her favorite spot on her scalp and massaging it. “Tillie likes me, so that’s what matters.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. That’s what’s important.” Eames, suddenly serious, went on. “Not the prize money or the battle record or the ribbons. Friendship.”

“A lot of people in Kalos are more concerned with the first two, but I agree with you.” Arthur nodded. 

By now, their small talk had led them back to Arthur’s house. Arthur went in first, taking his shoes off by the door, and Eames followed suit. Arthur’s mother was still in the living room, moving stacks of papers and books around.

“Arthur, thank goodness you’re back. I started unpacking these in the wrong order, and now I need to try and get them back where they’re supposed to be in the time line. Oh, just step around that infernal machine. Your father will move it out of the way when he gets home.”

Arthur slipped around one of the devices and moved to his mother, quickly diving into the stack of material and trying to get it in order. He set Tillie on the floor, and Eames did likewise. The two pokémon shyly approached and sniffed each other before scampering off into the labyrinth of boxes. Arthur turned his attention back to trying to fix the timeline of his mother’s records. They got lost in the task for a few minutes before Arthur remembered Eames, standing by the door.

“Mom, have you been at this all morning?” His mother grunted the affirmative. “Right. Brownie break then,” he said, moving into the kitchen. “Eames, care to cut them since you brought them?” He put a knife down on the counter and went through the boxes labelled KITCHEN until he found three plates. His mom drifted over, and they all leaned against the counter, trying not to drop crumbs.

Eames spoke up. “I could probably move whatever you wanted. Rivet’s a pretty chubby bugger and it’s bulked me up a lot.”

“Oh no,” Arthur’s mother said, “it’s heavy. I don’t want you to strain yourself.”

“I insist.” Eames flashed that winning smile. “I want to help out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on developing a style/just writing more in general, so this could do with a lot of actual critique most likely. Let me know if it doesn't flow or if its too heavy in some parts or disjointed, whatever you feel. 
> 
> I'm just trying to get a handle on what my own writing should feel and look like, so this may be edited at any time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eames felt something funny in his chest.

Eames took the knife that Arthur set on the counter and went about cutting the three of them generous portions while Arthur looked for plates. Once again, his mother had done a great job of baking, and the brownies were delicious. While he was chewing, he looked around the kitchen and living room, seeing the kitchen table pushed against one wall, several shelves and dressers pushed to the side, and plenty of weather machines stacked in with the boxes. He rinsed his plate off while Arthur and his mom finished theirs, then offered his help.

““I could probably move whatever you wanted. Rivet’s a pretty chubby bugger, and it’s bulked me up a lot.”

“Oh no, it’s heavy. I don’t want you to strain yourself,” Arthur’s mother said, shaking her head.

“I insist.” He smiled widely, trying to charm Arthur’s mother into letting him help. “I want to help out.”

“Oh, but you have. You went and found Arthur for me and you brought over the brownies. My husband will be home soon and I won’t feel bad making him move the heavy things.”

“I think you might be underestimating how much Rivet weighs. He’s gotta be one hundred thirty pounds now. He was one twenty last time I weighed him. Plus, he’s a spoiled brat. He eats all the time and then makes me carry him. Trust me when I say I can handle a few pieces of furniture.”

Arthur’s mom still looked unsure, but the teen spoke up in the silence that followed. “He wants to help, Mom. If anything, we can get the kitchen table and chairs in place.”

“Alright. How about you and I take one end, and Eames can get the other?”

“That sounds like a good place to start.” Eames nodded, and together, they helped to maneuver the kitchen table from the living room to the kitchen. Eames wasn’t lying about Rivet’s weight. He really was a heavy bugger, eating metal all the time. The constant carrying and hefting of his tiny, compact, dense little metal body did have the positive of muscling Eames up, though. He was able to carry his end of the table with ease, and quickly went back to grab the chairs while Arthur and his mom caught their breath. He tried not to look too triumphant.

“Well. Maybe you are stronger than you look. Alright, if you’re sure you won’t be straining yourself, I wouldn’t mind it if you can move all those machines to that wall and get them out of the way.” Arthur’s mom gestured vaguely towards the wall, while behind his mother’s back, Arthur gave Eames a thumb’s up.

They all spent the next two hours doing their respective tasks. Arthur’s mother unpacked the boxes of records, Arthur sorted them into the correct timeline, and Eames moved anything that was too heavy for either of them. Tillie and Rivet ran around them, playing. Occasionally they stopped and watched the unpacking process. They exchanged some small talk while they worked.

“Eames, what can you tell us about Rustboro? An insider’s perspective?”

“Well, Mrs. um..”

“Vipond. Mrs. Vipond.

“Like I told Arthur earlier, it started as a mining town. Lot of miners still live here. The gym’s rock based, and the big Devon CEO is named Mr. Stone and loves collecting rocks and fossils. We’ve got the tunnel though, so we’re pretty well connected to the rest of the region, despite being out on the coast like this. We have a couple of nice cafes and shops, but otherwise its a pretty relaxed place. The gym brings in some traffic, and we’re a throughway thanks to the tunnel. There’s a trainer school here in town too.”

“A trainer school?” Arthur asked, pausing between books. Eames took note of the way he stopped, hopeful and excited and curious.He smiled encouragingly and continued on the topic, part of him unexplainably pleased to have his new neighbor’s attention.

“It covers everything a person ought to know, plus all the basics of being a trainer. The teacher’s great. Homework’s fair. I’m no genius, but even I do well enough on assignments that the teacher likes me.”

“I used to go to a trainer school in Kalos. I missed a term last year, but do you think I could make it here for my last year?”

“Oh, absolutely. And this year’s classes won’t start for another two weeks. Plenty of time for us to hang out and for ol’ Eamsie to make sure you’re on track.”

“I’d like that,” Arthur said, sounding so incredibly sure of his decision already. Eames could practically feel himself glowing in triumph. Truthfully, he did do well enough on assignments. He wasn’t a dumb kid. He knew he could actually be quite intelligent at times, and would probably be doing much better in school if it wasn’t so boring and repetitive. But, what Arthur didn’t know couldn’t harm his impression of Eames. 

Behind Arthur, Mrs. Vipond smiled to herself, a little bit proud, but Eames could also see a bit of worry in the way her eyes tightened. That might be trouble, he thought to himself, but didn’t question it.

“My career as a tutor begins then. I must completely devote myself to my scholarly pursuits, seeking knowledge for the sake of-”

“Oh come off it,” Arthur teased, “I’m rusty and out of practice, sure, but I’m not totally incompetent.”

“Oh, we’ll see, won’t we?” Eames ribbed back. He was about to shoot off another witty response when there was a knock on the door. Mrs. Vipond, nearest, opened it to reveal MRs. Eames. 

“Sorry to bother you, but lunch is ready and I think the least I can do after unleashing Charles on you is offer you a place at the table.”

“Unleash him? Oh no, you’ve a fine boy here. He’s been so helpful all day, helping us move things and what not.”

“Charles Eames? MY Charles Eames? That one?” Mrs. Eames pointed at her son. “Oh no. He’s a destructive and fickle tyrant.”

“Mooom,” Eames protested. “That’s an exaggeration.” He felt a tiny blush. He didn’t know why he was blushing, but he turned a little so Arthur couldn’t see.

“Really, he’s been a pleasure all morning.”

“Come over for lunch then, and tell me your secrets for domestication of the wild Eames.”

“Most certainly.”

“C’mon Rivet,” his mother said, “Lunch time.” The use of the magic L word had the small pokemon heavily and hurriedly racing out the door after his mother. Mrs. Vipond followed her out, striking up a conversation. Arthur scooped up Tillie into her usual hold, and glanced over at Eames as he followed their mothers out the door.

“I don’t think you’re a destructive tyrant.”

Eames was left blinking alone in the living room for a moment, something funny in his chest, before he followed everyone out and across the street, barely remembering to close the door behind himself.

His mother had made as near a feast as she could on short notice. Probably had figured she’d be apologizing for her “destructive son”, Eames thought, petulant after his momentary embarrassment. He took his usual seat in the dining room by the window and continued sulking until Arthur dropped into the chair next to him.

“Your mom’s a good cook, isn’t she?”

Eames looked up from his slouch and sat up a little taller, nodding. “She’s pretty good,” he mumbled. All of his energy to be charming had apparently disappeared.

“My mom’s pretty good at cooking stuff from Kalos. She’s actually from there, even though she went abroad a lot. She and my dad actually met at sea, both heading to Johto. Maybe once we’re settled in, you can come over for Kalos food.”

Eames felt his energy coming back and perked up. “That sounds like fun, actually.” Arthur smiled again, and for the first time, Eames noticed he had dimples. He couldn’t take his eyes off them for the rest of the meal. The two teens continued chatting while their mothers gossiped. Rivet and Tillie nibbled on their own lunch in the corner. Lunch was over far too quickly and Eames rose to leave with the Viponds without thinking.

“Not so fast, you,” his mother caught him before the door. “I can think of a room that needs cleaning.”

“But mom, I’m sure they could use my help more than any old cluttered room could.”

“They’re probably tired and need to sort things. Come to think of it, I can think of a laundry pile that needs assistance as well.”

Eames sighed and looked at Arthur. “See you tomorrow?” The dark haired boy nodded and smiled, Tillie hiding behind one pant leg and watching Eames. 

“Of course. You can knock on my door, or I’ll come and knock here,” Arthur said, even as he and his mother were stepping outside. Eames smiled and felt that weird thing in his chest again. 

“See you then, of course.”

Eames spent the rest of his evening cleaning, putting his clothes through the laundry and picking up his room. With far more pleasant thoughts on his brain, he barely felt the tedium of the tidying. When he had finished and was showered, Rivet tucked in his own little bed, he laid on top of his freshly made covers and stared at the ceiling where the streetlamp made funny shapes out of his window pane. 

Eames spent the rest of his night thinking about dark hair and dimples.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm starting to get more of a feel for my style and the particular voice I want for this piece. Maaaybe 3 chapters too far in to try and feel that out though. Oh well, as always, my works are a constant work in progress. 
> 
> Any comments are welcome.


End file.
